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 Posted: Sat May 02, 2009 8:20 pm
 Mirebeat was finding himself in something of a state. It was strange for him-- feeling so existential and wasting his time in daydreams. Somehow it managed to make him sombre and withdrawn rather than most, and Walks had already given up on getting any worthwhile company from him for the day.
He lay on his own, on one of the little hillocks that dotted the edges of the swamp, having hollowed out a section of the sawgrass so that he could be comfortable. Trying to make a nest out of such harsh materials didn't exactly make for a nice resting spot-- he had to sit with his legs tucked in under himself to keep his soft underbelly from the rough blades of grass, but it worked all in all.
It wasn't clear to him, just why he had to be here. He did, though. Something was at the back of his mind, some rhythm getting faster and louder with every day. Sometimes when he closed his eyes and just tried to listen to it, he could almost hear pounding hooves or whistling winds, feel the rhythm of sun beating down against his scales with a pressure he'd never before felt.
It was most disconcerting, and made only worse because he knew how out of character he'd been behaving lately, and it felt like a tick that he couldn't shake loose. This was getting ridiculous.
It was with a purpose that he heaved himself up onto his feet and glowered accusingly at a low bush which was beside him, as if it were at fault for this. Giving himself a shake to try and brush it off, he started making his way carefully back towards the heart of the swamp that he tended to frequent, although it was slow going to pick his way from one cleared section to another without getting his tender nose sliced by a stray edge.
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Posted: Thu May 07, 2009 7:32 pm
 Lost Leaf sniffed the air, the pink ridges on her nose wrinkling in curiosity. She sensed something was coming. It wasn’t the smell of an approaching swamp goat, but more a hint of change in the air. As if spring was just around the corner and the flowers would start blooming soon. Whatever it was that Lost Leaf sensed was coming, it felt like something new and it excited her. She made her way through overhanging fronds. Feeling a little confused, she wasn't sure if she was moving to leave something behind or if she was moving to find something. Glancing from side to side, she continued her unknown path through the swamp. Her curiosity leading her in the direction where the edge of the swamp lay.
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Posted: Fri May 08, 2009 3:47 am
 Wildflower Breeze and his son, Motes-in-Moonlight, were picking their way around the perimeter of the swamp, little by little, with Breeze leading the way. The older buck, ever with his son in tow, was always roving all over mother swamp, listening to the stories of her children, and often telling stories of his own in kind.
The two of them had noted in their travels that there was a great change starting among the Kimeti. Breeze had felt it in his own heart, his own mind - it made him tingle from head to hoof, sometimes made him feel like his scales were humming, perhaps writhing about in his shoulders, face and back. It made him a little irritable, and was beginning to build to such a pitch that he was losing a significant amount of sleep over it. He observed that his son felt it as well, though perhaps not in quite the same manner.
Mote was always glad to have the company of his father, no matter his eccentricities. The two roved about together, with the father leading, and the son often protecting him, since the older, lankier buck seemed to always be lost in the stories he loved collecting. They were not often wanting for food, always supplied by Mother's bountiful bosom, led by their own eyes and noses, and those of the two pets they kept. Life had been very peaceful and pleasant, until the great change had begun.
The son did indeed see the changes in his father, his people, the swamp... himself. His usually wily and cheerful father was downtrodden and fretful, and he was feeling a similar itch, and sometimes smelled the change on the wind. Its scent was sweet, but a foreign, and somewhere, tucked far away in its center, rotten.
The father and the son wound their way around the border of the swamp, lost in thought. ((For those unfamiliar with my boys, WB is the Reddish one with the leaves, and Mote, the other, is his son.))
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Posted: Thu May 14, 2009 7:01 pm
 Wisdom Smoke awoke from a nice rest with Bringer curled up infront of him. The two understood each other, making them very close. Although they could not speak with each other they had a close bond. Wisdom Smoke woke Bringer up by patting his back with his nose. Bringer awoke and was lively after a nice rest. The two say a buck with blue glowing eyes and a glowing shoulderplate. Wisdom Smoke stood to see if he knew this kimeti, He did not. Bringer sccuffled over to kimeti and sniffed him and ran back to Wisdom Smoke. "Hello," Wisdom Smoke said, "I'm Wisdom Smoke, and this is Bringer, who might you be?" Wisdom Smoke said with a smile. He knew that their was something odd stirring about the swamp but he did not mind meeting a fellow kimeti.
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